


A Thousand Forevers

by julie4697



Category: Lifeline (Video Game 2015)
Genre: F/M, MC uses she/her pronouns, Other, alex uses he/him pronouns, reader is sort of an insert but also somewhat of an OC, taylor uses he/him pronouns, wynn uses she/her pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8879236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie4697/pseuds/julie4697
Summary: I am the Lifeline. A "drop of sanity in an ocean of chaos." An advisor, a confidante, a friend. I've walked with Taylor, Arika, V.Adams, Alex, and Wynn on paths that could spell disaster for humanity. I've seen things, through their eyes, that most people haven't.It was only a matter of time before they came for me.





	1. The Wake-Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Thanks for clicking on my fic!
> 
> This is a (hopeful) first step in what I foresee to be a gargantuan endeavor, spanning ALL the Lifeline games, including the latest (at the time of writing), Lifeline: Halfway to Infinity. Needless to say, there will be spoilers for all the games, and the fic will assume that you've played them, or at least are familiar with the lore behind the Lifeline universe.
> 
> Although I'm well aware that V. Adams is not a character in the Greens universe, I still intend to include him, as it seems a shame to leave out such an interesting character from the very fascinating canon that has been spun for us. :)
> 
> Please bear in mind that in my mind, I see Taylor as a "he", and the Lifeline character (the MC) is a "she" for me, although in all other respects I will try to keep the MC as ambiguous as I can. Please also bear in mind that there will be some deviations from canon, as this is a fanwork that really will just follow what I think is most plausible for the universe, and a lot of this is bound to get Jossed at some point in the near future. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this journey with me!

Time is meaningless.

What even is the inside of my head anymore? If there's something up there, I can't feel it. Everything is encased in a constant buzz, a frizzy haze that removes me at least three degrees ( _precisely_ three degrees; believe me, I was a math whiz once upon a time) from reality. I can almost feel the seconds ticking away, giving way to minutes, then hours, and finally days. 

My phone is sitting dully next to my pillow as I scratch the sleep-grit from my eyes. A touch of the home button reveals the time. 4:14 AM. I didn't even bother turning the lights out to sleep this time--I knew I'd be up way before I should be. There's really no point in going back to sleep now, so best to shake my limbs awake and start the day, right? I yawn, making a long noise like a walrus in my empty, cold dorm, then jiggle up and down on my bed in an attempt to wake up, creaking the springs. For once I'm glad I don't have a roommate; my wonky sleep schedule and weird morning rituals shouldn't have to torture anyone but me.

Still, it's too quiet in here. Too hollow.

Instead of getting off my bed, I sit there, for what feels like hours.

Is this what I wanted for myself when I was a kid? To be a bed-headed, jaded, perpetually tired college student with a gaping void in my heart the depth of the Mariana Trench? Okay, so maybe that was just me being overdramatic, but let's face it, I don't think depression has done any favors for me in the past few years. There are days where I just feel disconnected from everyone else, floating around in empty space, trying to initiate contact but feeling like an awkward mess every time. Other days I find myself wondering when was the last time I even meant something to anyone. I can hardly stand looking at my face in the mirror anymore, even. But that's not something I can avoid when I brush my teeth, so a few minutes later I'm staring myself in the (bloodshot, puffy-rimmed) eye as I stumble into the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. I look just the mess I expected myself to be, except maybe this time my dark circles have somehow gotten even darker, and I smile wryly. Good thing I don't have class for another few hours.

As the familiar _chug-chug-chuga_ of me brushing my teeth fills the bathroom, in my head I go over the day that will unfold. 5:00 AM, a breakfast of canned peaches and maybe some toast if I can get the communal toaster to work. 5:20 AM, fart around on the internet, check Facebook, read the news, probably waste time on forums. 7:30 AM, drift off to sleep again until it's 9:00 and it's time to prep for class...unless I decide that I'm too tired for lectures today and just sleep in until lunchtime. That's more than a possibility. Oh, and sometime after breakfast I ought to take my antidepressants too...

The old pang in my heart is back as I wish I had a friend to call, or maybe even just walk to class with me, on days like this when I feel especially alone. The few friends I did make on campus are all in different majors and while the others in my major all seem generally nice, I find myself reduced to a sweaty wreck whenever I try to keep up a conversation that lasts longer than 5 minutes, with little more than small talk and discussion of class material to keep it afloat. Last time I tried to chat with that friendly guy after class I didn't even notice how damp my forehead was until the guy stooped down to look at me and asked, "Hey, you okay? You look like you have a fever-" _GAH!_

I spit vehemently into the sink, angry at myself again for being this way, then take a deep, minty-toothpaste-flavored breath. I have to stop thinking like this. The longer I let this kind of emptiness go on, the more it's going to consume me whole, and I simply can't afford to let all this time tick away while the rest of my life flies by. Something has to change, and soon. Today I'm going to put on my favorite outfit, maybe do something nice with my hair, and try not to be so deathly afraid of other people...most of all, I have to not feel like a constant failure, and convince myself that I matter. Even if it all just feels like one giant lie.

After I walk back to my room, I take a cursory glance at my closet. Almost immediately my heart sinks as I realize my favorite outfit hasn't been washed yet. It must be sitting on The Chair Of Doom, where all not-too-dirty-but-not-clean clothes go, and isn't in any fit state to be worn without a good ironing first--something I absolutely do not have access to, and don't trust myself to handle without burning myself anyway. Frustrated, I make my way to the toaster in the tiny, cramped kitchen, but the thing just sputters and hisses at me before it short-circuits and fizzles out. Guess it's cold bread with peaches, then. Same old, same old.

I flop down on the bed, all previous energy evaporated, and stare up at my ceiling. Why did I even bother? It's easier if I just give up, not pretend that I'll amount to anything. I can just go to sleep right now. Wake up in a few hours, drag myself to class.

 Just let myself float away.

I close my eyes, my thoughts dissolving...

Suddenly, a strident noise shrieks into my ear, mere centimeters from my head, and as I jolt up in panic it takes me a few seconds to realize it's coming from my phone. The screen is glitching, black streaks dancing across the screen, and the noise it's making is like nothing I've ever heard it make before. Clearly there's something wrong with it--I frantically mash the buttons to try and reset it, but to no avail. The screen is completely black now, with some pixels flashing randomly, then the noise stops as suddenly as it began, and then--

_[initiating contact]_

_[establishing connection]_

_[receiving message]_

 

_-Hello? Is this thing working?_

_-Can anyone read me?_

Words. Dizzily, I watch as a keyboard pops up on the bottom of the screen. Oh. I'm supposed to type something?

 

_* I read you._

 

_-Oh, thank God!_

_-It's been hours!_

 

A pause. What is this? Some kind of hack?

 

_*Who is this?_

 

_-Right, right, should've started with that._

_-I was just excited to get a response to my signal._

_-My name's Taylor. I was a...an astronaut aboard the starship Varia._

 

Taylor? I don't know anyone by that name. No one I know is tech-savvy enough to pull a prank on me like this. I feel stupid as I echo their words back to them.

 

_*The Varia?_

_-The Varia was a transport ship. Nothing fancy. Crew of less than a dozen._

_-We were en route to Tau Ceti IV and, as far as I knew, everything was going fine!_

_-We were set to dock in six more days._

_-But then... I don't know what happened. We crashed on some moon._

_-I don't know where._

 

I don't recall seeing the name Varia in any news outlets recently. Then again, there are many things in this world I've never heard of, and who knows what NASA or the government is up to now. I don't feel any smarter as I fumble with the keyboard, my mind still drawing a blank.

 

_*Try, um, using a map?_

_-Yeah, that'd be a fantastic plan, if it weren't for the tiny problem that I, and my escape pod, are right here..._

_-_ _...whereas the astromap room is still in the Varia._

_-Which, given the two separate plumes of black smoke to the south, is in AT LEAST two_

_pieces, nowhere near me._

_-So you'll forgive me if "use a map" isn't at the very top of my "to do" list._

 

Slowly, it starts to dawn on me that my phone might have picked up on an actual, bona fide distress signal. I don't know how, or why, or if even any of this is real, but my heart is racing as I realize I can't afford to take any chances right now. If this is real--and it might be, it's the 21st goddamn century, there are self-driving cars--there very well might be a person on the other end who needs my help.

And if it isn't, well, it's going to keep me busy anyway.

 

_*Sorry. Are you all right?_

_-Let's see. My ship just crashed in the middle of nowhere._

_-No one is hailing on this frequency, and I don't see any survivors other than me..._

_-...the least prepared person in existence for this sort of emergency!_

_-But I got out of the whole mess with nothing more than a stubbed toe, so things are looking just peachy._

_-Thanks for asking._

 

I snerk despite myself. Whoever this is, they sound okay to me.

 

_*Sorry about the toe. Smartass._

_-_ _Ha. Yeah, well. I've been told I use sarcasm as a weapon, and right now, I'm not armed with anything else._

_-So let's hope that if there's any sort of little green men waiting to jump out and attack me..._

_-_ _...they're vulnerable to ironic comments and eye-rolling._

_-Anyway. Why don't I tell you what I can see from here, maybe you can advise me on where to go._

 

My heart is pounding a mile a minute. As I sit there, nearly immobile on my bed, clutching my phone, I try to steady my nerves. There is a person, talking to me, possibly from light-years away, asking me for help. And "no" is not an option for situations like this. For the first time in what must be years, I can feel every agonizing second ticking by, every minute brushing against me. Every atom of time in what might be a life-or-death situation for this person.

For once, there's someone who needs me.

I can help Taylor. If not me, then no one.

And by God, I'll do it right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter started off kind of slow, I just needed to get the picture of a lonely MC out there as much as I could. Sadly I can't say this doesn't hit quite close to home...


	2. The Event Horizon

Once something throws you off the rhythm of life like that, there really is no going back. Not that I had much of a rhythm (or a life, let's be real) to begin with, but I'm more alert than I ever remember being. Barely have I the time to type out a quick "Phone bricked; contact me through Facebook or email if necessary" status update on my Facebook page before the messages start to really flood in.

 

 _-_ _All right, so, my escape pod came down in some kind of desert._

_-The ground is all cracked white rock. There's a huge white peak a few miles away._

_-Or, uh, kilometers. I guess. (They tried to get me to think metric for the trip, but some things are just hardwired.)_

 

_*Hey, I've been going metric all my life. No sympathy from me here._

_-Damn. Well, I'll be sure to message you when I need to know what precisely 375.41 miles is in kilometers._

_-(Probably something like 4.)_

_-I'm sure you can help me then._

 

Soon I develop a morbid fear of letting my phone battery die. Taylor spent hours trying to contact someone, and what if the signal got lost and couldn't find me again? I can't run that risk.

Once or twice it occurs to me that this might indeed be some kind of prank, some elaborate practical joke cooked up by someone who was either immensely creative or immensely bored, or more likely, both. But if it's a joke, it was a damn convincing one, to be sure. And I do not want to throw our whole trust relationship for a spin by asking Taylor if someone is just pulling my leg.

I think, deep down, I don't _want_ to believe that this isn't real, and very soon, I realize that my inhibitions have no place whatsoever.

I see Taylor become a trembling, terrified mess, after discovery of his once-crewmates.

 

_-Antoine, Trotter, Colby, Adair. All dead. All of them, just... dead._

_-I don't see Captain Aya anywhere. I don't know..._

_-I... I don't think I can do this. Knowing that all of them, every one of them... I just..._

 

Dread hangs heavy in my stomach. What do I even say to someone in this situation? _Just keep moving? Honor the dead?_ Have him conduct some messed-up space burial?

Instead, I reach out in the only way I know how.

 

_*Hey._

_*I'm so sorry._

_*Do you need a minute?_

 

_-Yeah, sorry, I just..._

_-They were all such wonderful, smart people. Especially Colby._

_-Colby was always there to give me a hand, take care of me when I was sick, always checking up on me..._

_-And seeing her like this... Seeing them all like this..._

_-The longer I spend staring at them instead of trying to figure a way out of this mess, the closer I feel I'm getting to joining them._

_-God, that's the most morbid thought I've ever had to think._

_*That's okay. Take a deep breath._

_*I'll be here as long as you need me._

_-Thanks. From the way things are going, it looks like I might need you around for a long, long time, though._

I bite my lip as tears sting my eyes. I will myself to look up from my (permanently plugged-in) phone for a few minutes as I let Taylor rummage around the rest of the wreckage by himself. He probably needs time to process this; so do I. I pull my laptop towards me and run a quick Google search of the names he mentioned.

Huh. Nothing. A few Antoines and Colbys pop up from Facebook profiles, but there's nothing in the news about any astronauts with those names. Nothing from NASA. Certainly nothing about the Varia, or about Taylor himself. Strange. Taylor did mention being a science student, after all, and if he won some kind of scholarship program to go to space, something like that definitely would be in the news. Or would it?

I decide not to bring it up. Not yet, at least.

The next few days melt into a whirl of stress. My search history rapidly amasses questions I never thought I would ever Google: _how much radiation is fatal in one dose? Is 150 rads enough to kill a person? How do gamma rays affect the human body? Does a spaceship engine run on gamma radiation? Can a constant diet of shitty space food kill you?_ (That last question, admittedly, was a research point used to silence Taylor's constant complaining about his rations. No, Taylor, space ratatouille isn't CGI rat, and most decidedly _won't_ kill you, though I don't envy your position.) I order almost a month's worth of rechargeable USB battery packs for my phone that I keep fully charged, at all times, for the times I need to leave my room and show my face in class or social functions to prove that I'm still alive. I even ended up placing an order for a wristband that will keep my phone strapped to my arm at all times, not unlike the communicator Taylor himself is probably using. The time Taylor spends sleeping, hiking, or generally being [busy] is the time I wrench myself away from my phone to do the barest minimum of homework to keep me from failing, though half the time I find that I'm too jittery to focus. How is Taylor doing? Is he okay? Is he safe? Has one of my wrong decisions gotten him killed?

Sometimes I bitterly resent that I'm not there with him. I don't consider myself a touchy-feely kind of person, but if ever there was a time to hold someone's hand, that short period before bed, that time when he murmurs a lonely, _"And here's to a brighter future."_ into the comm seems a good a time as any for a reassuring hand-squeeze. At one point, I consider letting him know this, but embarrassment rises hot on my face and I decide against it. He seems grateful enough with my presence as it is. Right now, I still have to focus on getting him off this damn rock.

Well, to be honest, he's getting _himself_ off the damn rock, if anything. In between all his pop culture references and snark, he's quite a brilliant student. Rather self-deprecatingly (but also with a touch of some kind of pride), he refers to himself as a nerd, which I find is too plain a word to describe him, really. What kind of person is resourceful enough to cobble together a compass from _scratch_? Or patient enough to keep constant logs on lab mice that they brought all the way to space? Or, God forbid, remember all those damn references off the top of their head? I know I've had more than my fair share of Netflix binges, but honestly, it's kind of brilliant. More than once _I'm_ the one who has to look up whatever the hell he's talking about just to keep up. A list of Shows to Binge Watch When All This Is Over slowly grows on a file in my laptop.

It gets to the point where my few real-life friends pull me aside to comment on how much more of a recluse I've become. "You look like you've been sick for days," they tell me. Not surprising. I've barely slept for the past few days. At night I curl up on my bed to catch a nap, only to be jolted awake a few hours later by the soft _beep-beep_ of an incoming message that my ears have become hyper-sensitive to.

 

_-Hey, you there?_

 

And no matter how sleep-deprived, tired, or drained my body may be, my mind is always on full alert.

 

_*Yeah, I'm here._

 

Because Taylor needs me more than I need my little luxuries.

 

\----

 

It's 6:38 AM, though I don't know where exactly the sun is hanging on the moon Taylor is stranded on. He must be as tired as I imagine him to be, probably more.

The peak is looming close, he says. He's about to go into it.

 _Good luck, Taylor,_ I think to myself.

In my mind's eye, I follow him into the desolate peak, the uncannily artificial-looking structure that has been Taylor's goal-- _our_ goal--for several days now.

 

_-OH, HOLY CRAP!_

 

My stomach drops.

 

_*What happened?_

_-I don't know what the hell that was. But it was really close to me._

_-I heard the echo, bouncing off these rock walls, before I even heard the source._

_-And I was looking around, trying to figure out where the scuttling sound was coming from..._

_-...and I saw this faint, green glow, near the floor._

_-And it took a second, but then it resolved itself into... I swear, it was a bunch of little pairs of eyes._

 

Do I tell him to turn heel and run for it?

Do I tell him to pursue them?

Taylor is a scientist, and now, an explorer. And I'm the one who keeps him safe, yes, but I also owe it to the guy to find out about the secrets of this peak together.

I take a deep breath, and with him, I take the first step into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still playing around with verb tenses and how to write time. Also, a confession: I still haven't played all the Lifeline games myself, so it'll probably be a while before I can get around to including Arika, Alex, and Adams into the story proper, but I've promised myself I'd do it, and nothing makes me more excited than playing LL games. :)


	3. Moonie

 

"Fucking _aliens_?"

My voice is an echo in the empty dorm. I stare numbly down at the words on the screen-- _[connection lost]._

_Green body-snatching aliens?_

If there ever was a time to ask if this was a joke, I suppose this would finally be it, but Taylor's already tucked away safely on his journey back to Earth and I'm not sure if I can show all this to anyone without causing some deeply unwanted stir. Best case scenario, the whole thing is blown off and I'm just a fool who fell for it. Worst case scenario... I shudder. I'm _not_ going to think about the worst-case scenario.

I glance down at my phone again, where the last messages from Taylor are illuminated clear and bright.

 

_-This is Cadet Taylor, formerly of the Varia, signing off._

 

I take a deep breath.

Well. At least Taylor is safe now. At least he's away from that moon. At least, when he was afraid and fumbling in the darkness, I could offer him meagre words of encouragement. At least I talked him out of it when he felt he was going to succumb to the glowing green eyes. At least I...

A sob rises from my chest and I stifle it. _Dying now is selfish._ Even as I'd typed the words into my phone, fingers shaking, I'd been aware how painfully I was wrenching the thought from me. Even as I said it, in a last-ditch, desperate effort to bring him to his senses, I felt that I was wronging him profoundly. I know now that that was the key phrase that saved Taylor's life, but what right did I have to say something like that to him? Was I the one on the moon with him? I swallow down a tingling regret. I _sure_ was one to talk, wasn't I?

I blink away my tears and pull the laptop towards me. It's whirring, fans in full overdrive from being used for the past few days without a break, and hot to the touch. Absently, I type the words _Varia spaceship_ into Google again. Nothing, still. I wouldn't even be able to know when he was coming home. When, or even if, I'll ever see him in person. I don't know how that makes me feel. What was the name of the moon he'd touched down on again? 31U00W.

I freeze as a result appears on the screen.

 

**NASA Announces Discovery of First Individual Objects Outside Our Galaxy**

_A young, free-floating planet and its moon carry the distinction of being the first individual objects identified outside our known galaxy. The planet, tentatively named 0N3X, and its moon 31U00W, are each thought to be an exceptionally low-mass gas giant, and a small moon in its orbit, respectively. Astronomers using data from NASA's Voyager 12 probe found the objects at the edge of V616 Monocerotis, the nearest black hole to the Milky Way._

 

My vision all but clouds over. If 31U00W was a real moon that we already knew about, then why isn't the Varia mission being reported on as well? Have I accidentally stumbled onto some kind of government cover-up? Do I know things I'm not supposed to? What's going to happen to me n-

I will myself to grind this train of thought to a halt. I'm already halfway to a panic attack and the majority of my thoughts being unanswered questions is certainly not going to help matters. Instead, I comb the article for details.

For starters, it's very recent, I realize with a shock. It was published three days ago, a good four or so days after Taylor's first contact--no wonder this never came up in my earlier searches. This discovery, it seems, came hot on the trails after NASA's launching of the first extra-galactic probe (which was two months ago, according to the site). Just as I suspected, this bars any real possibility of a hoax, unless my pranker is...clairvoyant?

I snort despite myself. I've just spent the better part of a fortnight corresponding with an astronaut who discovered _hostile alien life-forms_ , and I'm unwilling to believe in a little magic back here on earth?

Speaking of...

How much sooner until news of these aliens spread across the globe? Surely, if an amateur astronaut found them, NASA's own discovery can't be far behind, and that's if they haven't been alerted to Taylor's mission status already. Chances are, some hotshot in the labs probably knows way more about this than me, and if NASA isn't going to break the news, I certainly won't be the one to do it.

I fall back on my bed, nerves utterly shot. What on earth have I gotten myself into?

Sleep hangs heavy on my eyelids, thanks to several days of cat-napping and fitful bouts of slumber, but my mind is whirring away like my laptop and I find myself unable to rest. I reach out to grab my phone, and re-read Taylor's last few lines to me.

 

_\- So. Yeah. They've brought me some food and Gatorade, and told me to take it slow on both..._

_\- ...And they're saying I'm due for a long rest, and probably a lifetime of trauma counseling._

_\- But I'm alive._

_\- I made it._

_\- And I couldn't have done it without you._

_\- So... Thank you. I mean it._

_\- And here's to a brighter future._

 

I exhale deeply.

In any case, I think some good has definitely come out of my troubles.

I sink into the warmth of my bed, and drift into a dreamless sleep.

 

\---

 

It's pitch-black outside when I wake up. It must be the middle of the night, or even very early in the morning; I make a mental note to skip my 9 am class today. Somewhere, in the recesses of my mind, a voice chides: _You're thinking about something as mundane as class, after all that?_

Instinctively, I take my phone off the nightstand and peer into it, even as I know I can't check the time with it, and immediately sit up like a bolt.

New messages.

_\- Hey, it's me again._

_\- I know you're probably tired of hearing from me by now. I wouldn't be surprised._

_\- I mean, I know I'm a great conversationalist and all, but none of the past events have really made for good conversation, right?_

_\- ...Anyways, I just realized... in my hurry to get back to safety, I never even asked your name. Or who you are, even._

_\- I know hardly anything about you, when you've done so much for me._

_\- And I'd love to say thanks in person when I get back._

_\- Our ship's about to enter some kind of warp drive soon--it's not instant galaxy-jumping like Star Wars, but it'll be faster than regular degular space travel--and I have a few minutes to kill before this connection fizzles out..._

_\- ...So I figured I'd make good use of the time, you know?_

_\- (Do you even like Star Wars?)_

_\- (See, this is exactly what I'm talking about--I don't even know if you like Star Wars, or Star Trek, or if you're actually a well-adjusted member of society and not a total geek like me.)_

_\- ..._

_\- I guess you're off doing something else._

_\- And that's great! I hope you're getting some rest, or a bite to eat, because let me tell you, I really underestimated how great those things can be while I was back on Earth._

_\- It's just that... well, it's a little odd being on the receiving end of the [busy] status message._

_\- But I'm just so glad that you were there._

_\- And this is going to sound kind of sappy, but..._

_\- I can't help but feel that it wasn't just dumb luck that connected me to someone who cared so much._

_\- Whatever it was, I can't be grateful enough that it ended up being you on the other line._

_\- You're... how should I put this? You're a lifeline to me._

_\- In the absence of a face or a name... that's probably how I'll always know you._

_\- I hope you don't mind that?_

_\- ..Ah, and that's the warp drive alert message coming on. Better fasten my seatbelt._

_\- This is Cadet Taylor, formerly of the Varia, signing off._

 

_[connection lost]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep, long time...no...see?
> 
> I just wanted to say a big THANK YOU to people who read and commented on my fic. I was actually motivated to pick this back up after an anonymous kudos was left here, which indicated to me that, against all odds, people still actually came across this fic and read it and even enjoyed it enough to kudo it. I wouldn't be surprised if this received no more traffic--the Lifeline fandom has been largely dormant, and canon material is extremely slow to come--but it's thanks to you guys that I even write stuff anymore.
> 
> Anyways. An update after AGES. I'm still holding onto my original ambition, but it's been a while since I played the games so I'll need a refresher at some point... so please don't hold your breath for frequent updates, although this fic is not abandoned yet! I still have some big ideas for this little guy. I even considered restarting completely at one point, but I think I, like my MC, am gradually finding my way out through this rather tangled mess. 
> 
> Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this chapter started off kind of slow, I just needed to get the picture of a lonely MC out there as much as I could. Sadly I can't say this doesn't hit quite close to home...


End file.
